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| Chef Russell Jackson - The inspiration for the Pulp Fiction writing contest. |
Dollface’s Diamond
“Quinn Lawrence, happy birthday!” Chef
Jackson said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “I’m so pleased to be here
at your hotel in Vegas.”
“CJ, it’s great to have you at the
Morrocan. We’re thrilled your team agreed to come and share your culinary
specialties with us,” said the handsome man, exquisitely dressed in a tailored
three piece suit. “You remember my wife, Elsa?”
“Hello,”
The buxom red head purred as she cuddled up to her husband.
“Of course. Elsa, looking as beautiful
as ever.” Chef said before taking her delicate hand, “And may I add, that is an
exquisite necklace you’re wearing!”
“Thank
you.” Elsa said, tucking a strand of her long hair behind her ear to show off an
enormous pear shape diamond pendant. It shimmered and sparkled in the candlelit
entryway of the grand ballroom.
“Fifty carats. Nothing but the best for
my dollface.” Quinn said, taking in every detail of his surroundings. “Now CJ, I’m
intrigued to see what you’ve come up with this evening. Hope there aren’t too
many surprises.”
“I’ve created a special dining experience
in your honor that I think you’ll enjoy.” Chef said. “Now, let me show you to
the bar, where the rest of your party is waiting.”
Quinn shot Elsa a quizzical look, but
she only batted her eyes and smiled.
As the grand doors opened, a familiar
and friendly voice echoed, “It’s about damn time the man of the hour arrived.”
“Holy hell, Darby Jones!” Quinn grinned
as he walked over to greet his friend. “I thought you were halfway around the
world playing in some underground poker tournament?”
“And miss your 50th? No way,
man!” Darby laughed, his blue eyes dancing as the men embraced in a handshake
turned manly hug.
“Ah…your better half.” Quinn said,
turning to sweep a petite brunette off her feet, “You look lovely, as always,
Mary.”
“It’s
good to see you, Quinn. Happy Birthday.” She said, as he set her back on the
ground.
“Let the experience begin!” Darby
exclaimed.
“Indeed,”
said Chef Jackson. “In honor of this momentous occasion, I’ve taken the liberty
of preparing simple yet succulent food for you to enjoy, and the staff is here to
cater to your every need. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to check on things
in the kitchen. My assistant, Ben, is here if you need anything and your
server, Kristi is here to get you started. I’ll be back shortly. Enjoy.” Chef
gestured to the man and woman in the room, then closed the grand doors behind
him.
“Tonight, we will begin with a
celebratory shot.” Kristi handed each guest a small glass with tiny flame on
top.
“To my wonderful husband,” Elsa raised
her glass.
“The best friend a man could ask for,”
Darby raised his.
“And one helluva guy,” Mary added, as
she lifted her glass.
“Bottoms up!” said Quinn, as glasses
clinked.
“Excuse me, this way please,” Kristi
said. Everyone turned and followed her to a large high-top table in the center
of the room. As they sat, she passed out
menu descriptions. “All our food is simple, fresh and delicious. You’ll start
your experience with hors d’oeuvres. Then proceed through many carefully
created courses all served in a relaxed atmosphere.” Each of the guests nodded
with approval as they skimmed the course descriptions. “And here’s Jim now with
your next round of drinks.”
After the bartender placed a berry
concoction in front of everyone, Kristi soon returned with two platters of
fresh flavorful hors d’oeuvres. Raising their glasses, everyone toasted again. Bluesy
jazz trumpets streamed through the speakers, while the friends shared the first
course and caught up on time passed.
“Oh my goodness, that was simply
delicious. I can’t wait to see what comes next,” Elsa smiled, putting her hand
atop her husband’s.
“This was a spectacular idea, dollface.”
Quinn said, as Mary and Darby nodded in agreement.
Just then, the room plunged into blackness.
The ladies screamed in surprise.
“What the hell is this?” Quinn demanded.
“Is this part of the experience?” Mary
asked, her voice quivering.
“I hope not. I’m not a fan of pitch
black parties.” Darby wrapped an arm around her.
“Damn it!” Quinn said, his jaw clenching
as he looked at his phone, “No service. I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
Everyone stay here,” he said. With his phone light, he strode toward the
entrance.
BOOM! CRASH! BANG!
“Who’s there?” Darby yelled as his
penlight outlined a faint figure.
“AAAHHH!”
Elsa screamed.
“What happened, dollface?” Quinn said,
at her side in an instant
“Someone hit me over the head, then
there was a quick tug around my neck and now…my necklace…it’s gone.” Her voice
wavered, as she rubbed the back of her head.
Seconds
later a door slammed, then the emergency lights clicked on as another door
opened. Shadows danced on the walls in the dim lighting as Chef ran into the
grand ballroom, “Everyone okay?”
“Hell
no, we’re not okay, CJ. My wife just got knocked upside the head and someone
stole her necklace…in the dark… at my 50th birthday party…in my own
hotel!” Quinn’s voice boomed.
“Are you sure? Concierge said it’s just a
simple power outage in this wing.”
“This is no power outage. This is a
heist. Where’s my security team?” Quinn muttered, his fists clenching. “When I
find whoever did this…”
“Whoa, Quinn. We’ll get to the bottom of
this.” Darby said, resting a comforting arm on his friend’s shoulder. “No one’s
getting out of this hotel with that diamond.”
“You’re right. The auto-locks have
probably been enacted, which means we’re all stuck here.”
“Which also means the thief can’t get
out,” Darby said. “Take a deep breath. We’ll find the diamond.”
“Find the rest of the staff. One of them
knows something,” Quinn’s voice turned hard.
“CJ, we need to get a hold of security
and then find the staff.” Darby said, taking charge briefly.
“You got it. I’ll start with the main
office.” Chef said. As he pulled a two way radio from his belt loop, a blood
curdling scream erupted throughout the private room.
“Dear
God!” Mary gasped, bringing her hand to her throat.
“What do we do?” Elsa asked.
“Office A, do you copy? Office A?” Chef
called on the main radio channel. Nothing. “Damnit! What’s going on?”
“I’m going to investigate. A hundred to
one, that scream has something to do with the missing diamond.” Quinn said,
moving in the direction of the scream.
“Let’s
stay together until we know what’s happening.” Darby added, ushering the ladies
behind Quinn and Chef as he brought up the rear.
“CJ, ideas?” Quinn asked, pulling the
heavy ballroom doors open.
“Let’s start in the offices and move
forward.” Chef said.
“What the hell?” Quinn said, stumbling in
the dark narrow hallway.
Screams filled the entrance as the women
saw Chef’s assistant lying on the floor, bound with duck tape.
“What happened?” Quinn bent, peeling the tape
from his mouth.
“I don’t know. Someone hit me from behind
and I woke up like this.”
“Where’s the rest of the staff?” Chef
asked, but Ben only shrugged.
“I’m
pressing on.” Quinn said, anger radiated from his body.
When he got to the back of the wing, the
office door barely budged. Pushing all his weight into the door, it flung open
and a feeble barricade crashed to the ground. The emergency light flickered in
the back of the room. “Found the rest of the staff.” Quinn muttered, raising his
arms in surrender and stepping to the side. “Damnit!”
“What the…oh no!” Chef said, as everyone
entered the office one by one.
“The doors weren’t supposed to lock,”
Jim, the congenial bartender, said as he pointed the barrel of a revolver at
Kristi’s temple while he hid behind her. “But we can still make this work.”
“How’s that?” Quinn said, moving in
front of the group. Chef flanked him on the right and Darby on the left with
the ladies safely tucked behind them.
“All I want is the necklace. Nine million
will settle my gambling debt in Jersey.” Jim said, squeezing Kristi’s neck a
bit tighter.
“So what do you want, besides my necklace?” Quinn asked, his
eyes narrow slits.
“To walk out of here. I know one of you
has a key. I get out and you all stay locked inside. No one gets hurt and I’ll
be out of the building before the lights come back on,” Jim said, inching his
way to the door.
“That so? Then what?” Quinn asked.
“I’ll pay off my debt and eventually…eventually…everything
will be fine…”
“Not
on my watch! ARGH!” Kristi shouted. Stomping on Jim’s foot, she elbowed him in
the gut.
Without a second thought, Chef stepped
up and chopped the bartender in the throat, then kicked out his knee. Jim
tumbled to the ground, his gun sliding across the floor.
“Well played, service professionals!”
Quinn said, stepping on the bartender’s throat as he bent over to grab the gun.
“Did you really think you could pull one over on me? Huge mistake,” Quinn
whispered, reaching into Jim’s pocket and pulling out the brilliant pear shaped
diamond. “And I’ll take this back.”
The room buzzed and the lights flickered
on as security flooded through the doors, “Over here officers,” Kristi called,
then walked to Quinn. “U.S. Marshall, Kristi O’Neal,” she said holding up her
badge.
“You’re not a server?” Chef asked.
“Only undercover,” Kristi said, “And I
must say, that was one a hell of throat chop, Chef.”
“It was nothing,” Chef shrugged with a
sly smile.
“Is everyone alright, Mr. Lawrence?”
Kristi asked,
“Yes,
we’re alright. Thanks, in part, to you. How did you know, Agent O’Neal?”
“I’ve been tracking this guy for awhile.
He’s a wanted cat burglar with a severe gambling problem. The financial
destruction left in his wake is devastating. We had a tip he was posing as a
bartender, preying on the some top players in Vegas. I was assigned to shadow
you this evening, sir. I hate that he got the upper hand for a short time, but now
that the suspect has been captured. I think it’s time you get back to your
party.”
“Yes, my love deserves his party,” Elsa said,
as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.
“I agree 100%, dollface,” Quinn said, pulling
Elsa close. He delicately placed the diamond around his wife’s neck. “Alright, CJ,
after that killer throat chop, my expectations of the SubCulural Dining
experience have risen to new heights.”
“And I intend to surpass those
expectations, Quinn. Just give me a few moments. Please have a drink at the
bar. I’m sure you could use one.” Chef said, happy to return to the comfort of
the kitchen.
“Indeed!
You sure know how to keep things interesting, Chef Jackson.” Quinn said. “Now,
I cannot wait for this dining experience you’ve created…I hear it’s
R[E]VOLUTIONARY!”
